Here

Autumn is the most spiral-like of all the seasons for me. I stretch out in its descent, then something vibrant pushes me back up to the surface. What better way to feel alive than to recognize impermanence?

Across time and cultures, this season has held great collective significance about what it means to survive. It is a yearly reminder of both the fragility and perseverance involved in life’s continuity.

I’ve been downshifting, tuning my focus, and taking stock of not only what turned out well from the summer’s harvest, but also what didn’t. What am I bringing with me?

Personal encounters and collective events keep coming and going. But like the plants who shed everything but the interior, I think about the simplicity and essentials I take with me through each year. What needs my attention and discernment in the waning light, and what kind of peace can I find in the dark? My heart continues to break and need care, my rage matures, my mind cannot take the incessant noise. Cognition is not helping here, something practical is to be done. Routine, movement, ritual. I know I’ve spoken about it a lot here, but it’s clear to me that practice is everything. What are we doing with this precious time in which we’ve been given life, and what must we stop doing in order to better care for it? (Yes, including self-abandonment)

Ending and stopping is hardly easy. But there’s no more appropriate time than autumn to receive extra energetic support in letting go. If there’s a weight you carry that you know you need to set down but struggle to, the environment around you provides instruction. Watch the trees shed everything but their interior. Spot animals gathering all they can to store for winter. Sense life turn towards the natural process of death without a fight. Remember the roots, unseen, who insist on staying. What happens when you lessen resistance to reality? What possibilities then emerge?

Loss is something that happens to us. We should not, in my opinion, minimize how truly painful it can be. But since we cannot change our losses, what can we choose? In the face of death and loss, we can choose grief and grieving instead of refusing its real presence (otherwise disregarding, numbing, or pushing through without feeling). Choosing grief – connecting and releasing, connecting and releasing – can lead us to acceptance. Acceptance can lead us back to life, clarity, and aligned action.

Now

For a while now, I’ve been exploring what it means to me to live in varied time horizons. I break things up and nest them within years, seasons, months, weeks, and days, à la Sarah Hart-Unge’s how-to planning book Best Laid Plans. The process isn’t perfect (what is?) but it is a system for my living that works for me, where I find ground and truth in the conditions and possibilities that are available. Other than a single day, my favorite time horizon is the season. There’s so much potential for a three-month cycle without too much pressure – my intentions are attainable and I get to experiment with new habits and routines that relate to that particular season of my life. Try it for yourself: what’s one practice you choose to add or one to subtract for your mind, body, and (relational) environment this autumn season? Here’s mine for autumn as a taste:

• Mind – Put my phone away during the day. Study Dutch vocabulary for 30 minutes every morning. Start The Artist’s Way with my brother (because why not?).

• Body – Insert more moments of 5-minute deep breathing in the day. Experiment with new memento mori practices related to the senses.

• Environment – Clear accumulated stuff in my house, including clothes worn before pregnancy (no, I will likely not fit in them again). Explore new and old friendships. Try to make it to more art events.

If grief care is part of your desire for this autumn, please join me in the start of Wayfind on 15 October. Wayfind is a seasonal grief care practice group to make space for your grief, explore creative ways of caring for yourself, and develop a practice you can return to throughout the seasons. It’s for people who already value tending to their grief, but struggle to make that care an integrated part of their lives. Commit to the next four seasons with me by 9 October for a big discount, or join just one session if that’s what you need right now. More info and how to register here.

Plus, coming up: I’m excited to introduce my practice to the MFA HKU students tomorrow evening through their monthly lecture series, and thrilled to present some recent thoughts on vulnerability in the Studium Generale program What can access do? Artistic and curatorial perspectives alongside Carly Everaert and Lichen Hamraie on Wednesday, 21 October. If the latter interests you and you’re in or around Gent, Belgium, please join us.

Close

My dearest friend and mentor Jim Draper just completed his generous month-long program 30 Days of Noticing on his Substack. If you’d like a month to reset your perspective or creative activities, subscribe for the month (or year, if you can invest in his writing) and follow his prompts. Jim has been such an important teacher in my life and always reminds me I have a hand in my own perception.

Insisting,

Staci

PS. If you’ve thought about working with me for grief care, I highly recommend joining the Wayfind membership. It includes plenty of guidance with a low price point. Going deeper together in a one-on-one session is always possible, but this creates accountability and forward momentum for those who want to make more space for their grief care. Hope to see you. <3